Welcome to the 100th Annual Hunger Games!
by charlie0chubs3
Summary: A few years later, the Capitol was able to re seize all of Panem. Now, the Hunger Games are back on. With the 100th Hunger Games being the first Quarter Quell since the rebellion. May the odds be ever in your favor...
1. The Tributes

**District 1**

**Girls**

Diamond

Song

**Boys**

Storm

Braden

* * *

><p><strong>District 2<strong>

**Girls**

Sapphire

Saffron

**Boys**

Asher

Dayton

* * *

><p><strong>District 3<strong>

**Girls**

Aria

Rika

**Boys**

Heath

Maverick

* * *

><p><strong>District 4<strong>

**Girls**

Sade

Felicity

**Boys**

Kenyon

Tyrell

* * *

><p><strong>District 5<strong>

**Girls**

Elisha

Monet

**Boys**

Silas

Forrest

* * *

><p><strong>District 6<strong>

**Girls**

Delia

Sage

**Boys**

Irvin

Braxton

* * *

><p><strong>District 7<strong>

**Girls**

Allegra

Ivory

**Boys**

Preston

Trenton

* * *

><p><strong>District 8<strong>

**Girls**

Leah

Ava

**Boys**

Trace

Angelo

* * *

><p><strong>District 9<strong>

**Girls**

Verbena

Rosemary

**Boys**

Fennel

Tarragon

* * *

><p><strong>District 10<strong>

**Girls**

Rosalie

Anise

**Boys**

Seth

Jace

* * *

><p><strong>District 11<strong>

Girls

Echinacea

Juniper

**Boys**

Darren

Hayden

* * *

><p><strong>District 12<strong>

**Girls**

Summer

Coriander

**Boys**

Aidan

Garrison


	2. Chapter 1

I stood in the town square. It was a hot summer day, and being surrounded by all these other girls well we waited for the Reaping was causing me to sweat. It was the 100th annual Hunger Games – the first Quarter Quell since the Capitol had retaken all of Panem.

To honor this Quarter Quell, forty-eight children would be thrown into an arena, similar to what had happened in the 50th Hunger Games. Except that each child picked would be forced to pick someone else. Such as, if my name was drawn from the Reaping Ball, then I would have to pick the other female tribute. Terrible, right?

The announcer, a tall woman in a short gray skirt and matching gray blouse with fluffy blond hair and gray eyes – I think her name was Samara – pulled out the slip with the first female tribute's name on it. My heart pounded in my chest well I prayed and prayed that it wouldn't be me.

"Verbena Hunter." Samara called out.

The seventeen-year-old stalked forward, her hands clenched tightly and her eyes closed as she tried to stop the tears. Once she got up on stage, though, she smiled and opened her eyes. She looked like she was happy to be there.

"Who do you want to go with you?" Samara asked.

Verbena leaned in to the microphone and called out in a loud, clear voice; "Rosemary." She coughed, "Rosemary Piedra."

For a moment, I just stood there. Then someone pushed me towards the stage and I remembered that that was my name. That I was Rosemary Piedra.

My heart pounded in my chest as I walked forward and mounted the stage, I vaguely remember Samara pulling out another slip of paper and a boy named Fennel mounting the stage, he then chose Tarragon.

Of course, my mind was in a completely different place.

Samara herded us into a limo and took us to the Justice Building. I was given a small room to say goodbye to my family and friends (although I had no friends and the only family I had was my mother and father.)

When my mother and father walked in, we all hugged and cried until the Peacekeeper made them leave.

"Take this, my little Rose," my mother said and gave me a necklace that had a small golden flower on it. I smiled and slipped it on, mouthing "Thank you" since I knew that if I tried to talk, I would start crying.

No one else came to visit me. I vaguely remember the Peacekeeper escorting me back to Samara and the other three tributes, and then us being loaded onto the train that would take us to the Capitol. I looked at the other tributes. Yes, Verbena hated me. Why? I couldn't remember exactly... I think I humiliated her in 1st grade or something...? And I had never seen Tarragon or Fennel around before.

I pulled myself out of my thoughts after we were out of the cameras' flashing lights. And then I cried.

"It's ok," one of the boy tributes – I think Tarragon? – said and hugged me. It helped. A little.

"Why don't we watch the Reaping recaps and then I'll introduce you guys to your mentors?" Samara asked, a smile on her pale face.

What mentors? We've had exactly two winners in the past twenty-five years. I was going to die. And so was Verbena and Tarragon and Fennel.

We sat down on the couch, me on the very end next to Tarragon. I glanced over at him. He was tall and thin, I think he was sixteen or seventeen. He had black hair and dark brown eyes that were trained on the TV screen. I had seen him once or twice.

I turned to the TV screen and made mental notes of who to watch out for. A black-haired girl from District 1. All the tributes from District 4…

What really caught my attention was the District 10 Reaping. Their announcer pulled out a slip and called out; "Rosalie Merca!" A young, twelve-year-old girl walked slowly up to the stage, her head lowered so that her dark hair covered her face. A strangled cry rose up from the audience – no, not from the audience. From the group of boy tributes. The cameras focused on a tall boy who was probably around fourteen or fifteen. His eyes were wild with fright as he watched the little girl make her way to the stage. Obviously, he was her older brother, and he wanted to do something. But he couldn't.

Rosalie picked some girl named Anise, and then the announcer pulled out the boy's slip. She coughed and frowned before she called out; "Seth Merca." A twelve-year-old boy who looked exactly like Rosalie walked up to the stage. _Twins…_ I thought.

"Seth, who do you pick?" the announcer asked. Seth locked eyes with the teenage boy in the audience, who was shaking his head.

"My brother – Jace Merca." Seth said, and the fifteen-year-old mounted the stage, a sad, tired look in his face as he stood beside his little brother and little sister.

We watched the 11 and 12 Reapings, but I couldn't stop thinking about the District 10 Reaping. Their poor parents, who would be forced to watch as their three children fought it out in an arena filled with forty-five other tributes.

And knowing that only one tribute could come out alive, that for one of your kids to come home, meant that the other two must die…


	3. Chapter 2

I closed my eyes and thought of home as my prep team got me ready for the parade. I thought about the endless fields of grain, waving in the gentle breeze, the sun warming me as I set to work. Or as I hung out with friend…

Of course, that was before he was chosen for the Hunger Games. Just last year, in fact. His name was Aidan. He died, of course, but he at least got up to the bottom four. I remembered having to watch that bloody fight.

I quickly pushed images of Aidan's death out of my mind. I might've had a little crush on him, and now I was about to go into the same place that he died. And, undoubtedly, I was about to join him in death.

"We'll go get Dario." The prep team hurries out of the room, leaving me and Verbena alone. Did I mention that we were in the same room? Being worked on at the same time?

"Are you thinking about Aidan?" Verbena murmurs and I look over at her, shocked.

"Yeah," I admit.

"I'm sorry," she says and I can tell that she's holding back tears, "You're going to die and it's all my fault!"

"Oh, come on," I say awkwardly, I'm not good at this stuff. "You had to choose someone."

Just then, our stylist – Dario – walks in, stopping our conversation. With bright pink hair and dark eye shadow, it's hard to take him seriously. Verbena and I both look at each other and have to stifle a giggle.

He glares at us, "Would you two _shut up_ well I explain what your costumes for the parade tonight are going to be?"

We nod our heads. District 9 specializes in grain. Nothing interesting you can do with that, unless you consider making us… Yeah, I don't know. It's hopeless!

Dario smiles, "We were thinking something along the lines of… well, why don't I just show you?" he suggests and leaves, coming back a moment later with two costumes. Bread. That is what these costumes are. _Bread._ Giant _bread _costumes. Do I need to say it again?

"Is this seriously bread?" Verbena asks in dismay as she takes one of the costumes and studies it, a look of pure disgust on her face.

He shrugs. "Not much else you can do for the grain district."

Verbena and I exchange a look. If we wear these in the parade tonight, there is no way that anyone will sponsor us. Might as well call us dead.

"Uhh… can we have some alone time with Tarragon and Fennel?" Verbena asks sweetly as she slips on the horrid bread costume. I do the same. "You know, to discuss our… uh…"

"Tactics!" I say, struggling to try and get comfortable in this hideous bread costume.

Dario shrugs and nods his head. "Sure. Should I send them in here?"

"No!" Verbena says quickly, "I mean… uhh… send them to our room. And how about all four of us meet you guys downstairs right before the parade?"

"Ok." Dario says and walks out.

"How did you do that?" I whisper as we hurry to our shared bedroom. "And what are you doing?"

Verbena rolls her eyes. "Look, if we want sponsors," she says, ignoring my first question, "We have to look _somewhat_ nice and _somewhat_ awesome. If we go out there dressed as giant loaves of bread, then we're going to die without a chance or survival."

Well. She's right about that. I still don't know what she's planning on doing, but whatever. As long as it means that I don't have to dress up as bread I'll follow her.

We go into our room and a few minutes later the boys come, also dressed as bread.

"Please tell me that you two have some kind of plan." Fennel says glumly, "Because I really don't want to go out in public like this."

Verbena grins. "Actually, I do." She slips out of the bread costume, leaving her in just her underwear, and walks over to our closest. She punches some buttons and then four outfits are brought out. They are a simple looking golden shirt and pants.

Then she rushes over to where we order food and murmurs something in the microphone-thingy. A moment later, a plate of grain stalks pops up. She starts to weave them into weird looking crowns, and I go over to help her.

After we are done with that, she orders everyone into the simple clothes. We all slip them on and put on our little grain crowns.

"Now, watch what I do." Verbena says and takes some of the stalks, weaving them into a belt, we all copy her and tie our belts on around our waists. Then we take the remaining stalks and make grain bracelets and necklaces.

"Perfect!" Tarragon says happily. "We won't be the best looking contestants, but at least we won't be dressed up as bread!"

The four of us make our way down to where our chariots await us. Our stylists glare at us.

"Where are your costumes?" Dario roars.

Verbena shrugs.

"We didn't want to be the laughing stock of Panem." Fennel replies and climbs up onto the chariot soundlessly, the rest of us following his lead. I get stuck in the back with Tarragon.

I look around at the other Districts. Well, we are defiantly going to be one of the better looking Districts. At least no one will laugh at us… hopefully. But given the fact that District 7 is dressed up as trees (again), District 4 as fish, and with District 10 looking the worst of all, I think we might actually get a few sponsors… maybe.

We all try not to laugh when we look at District 10. Rosalie and Seth – the twins – are chasing each other, laughing and having a good time. Jace looks like he's about ready to kill someone and the other girl stands motionless. They are dressed up as cows. But not just as cows, each of them has a black belt and a mask that makes them look like ninja cows.

"Thank gosh we have Verbena." Fennel murmurs when he sees them.

"Yeah, otherwise we would be ninja-cows." Tarragon says. Jace glares at him, I don't know Jace heard Tarragon from here, maybe he has superpowers.

Then the parade starts with District 1's white horses leading the way. Our own golden horses soon follow them and I take in a deep breath.

A few of the Capitol people notice us, and we wave. Tarragon laughing, he throws one of his grain bracelets at a random girl. She laughs and holds it up proudly.

I feel myself getting dizzy and I struggle to stay conscious. We pull into the City Circle and the President says something, but I don't hear any of it.

What feels like an eternity later, they let us go. Samara and Dario are there instantly. Glaring angrily at us and yelling.

"Whose idea was it to go against what your stylists said?" a voice asks and then a man pushes his way in front of Samara and Dario. He's older looking and I recognize him as Locke. Our only surviving male victor. He has messy golden hair and playful green eyes. He looks a lot like Fennel.

"Mine," Verbena murmurs and shyly raises her hand.

"Brilliant!" Locke says and smacks her on the back, "I wanna mentor this one. This one and Fennel." He grins and hugs a very surprised Fennel.

"So I don't get to choose either of my tributes?" a velvety voice floats through the air as Shay, our other surviving victor, asks as she walks up. She won two years ago, when she was fourteen, now she's sixteen. She smiles and brushes her red hair out of her face. "That's fine, these two look like winners anyway."

Locke laughs again. "Yes, well, I think they need to go get some rest. We'll start to discuss tactics and what not tomorrow morning."

We nod our heads and hurry off, ripping the grain bracelets and necklaces off and throwing them away. I notice that all of us keep the crowns though.

As soon as I hit the mattress, I fall into a deep sleep.


End file.
